


Sunrise, Sunset

by omnenomnom



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ceremony, Charlie is just a really good dude okay?, Charmione, F/M, First Time, Forced Marriage, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Loss of Virginity, Magical Tattoos, Marriage Law Challenge, Smut, Wedding, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Night, soul bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:41:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27687746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omnenomnom/pseuds/omnenomnom
Summary: It was a law everyone had expected to pass, just not in this format. Hermione needs to find a husband ASAP but unfortunately all the decent pureblooded men have already posted banns... well all the ones in England anyway."Every sunset is also a sunrise, depending on where you stand."-Karl Schmidt
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Charlie Weasley
Comments: 75
Kudos: 372





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello,
> 
> Welcome to my potato chip, marriage law drama Charmione. Very exciting and unique... I know. This is short, about 15k.
> 
> I started this because I question how in all Marriage law fics no one sees the law coming or it's all done under the cover of night and everyone is surprise. I totally get why (we want to get to the good stuff) and it's in no way bad; I just wanted to do a take on it where the law is a bit slower rolling and people still end up thrown together.
> 
> I also loved the idea of posting the banns. This is a (noted ably) old tradition in the Christian church where a local parish will announce an impending marriage. The community then has two weeks to make any counter claims or oppositions to the marriage, legal or civil. This could include; lack of consent, existing marriage, vows of celibacy's, or *shudders* "prohibited degrees of kinship" (aka incest but only major, minor is still A-OK!).
> 
> UPDATE 1/4/20: This story is done, finque, complete. There will be no continuation. Feel free to go follow *the Eastern Front* if you are looking for a long word-building slow burn epic!

Hermione was frowning deeply at the newspaper in front of her. The owl that had dropped it by had left mere minutes ago and her cup of tea laid abandoned. 

“I can’t believe it passed,” Harry mumbled watching Molly fuss over an annoyed Ginny with tears of happiness rolling down her face. Ginny had scratched her name on the parchment and he was blowing on the ink to dry it.

“Oh, it was going to happen anyway,” Hermione chided. “At least you know who you want. I have six months to get this sorted.”

Hermione glanced at the paper on the table.

_ Marriage Law Passes: An Answer to Blood Purity Problems? _

The law had been working its way through the Wizenmagot for the past few months. It was continuously being brought up after being shot down with only the most minute of changes in each new iteration. Hermione had known it was only a matter of time before enough adjustments were made before it passed. The war had decimated the wizarding population and unlike the last time, the young people who fought had taken precautions not to bring a child into the world while it was still on shaky ground.

The result was a bunch of tittering old men in their ivory towers trying to fix a problem they made by pushing it off on the younger generation.

Still Hermione could see the logic that Kingsley had been advocating for. He had been trying to draw as much flexibility out of the law as he could as it dragged its way steadily forward. He did have some results to show for it.

Purebloods would not be allowed to marry other purebloods if they weren’t already registered as engaged within the ministry or with child. As there were many fewer purebloods than half-bloods or muggle-borns the purebloods got to pick from the pool. They had six months to secure a spouse and consummate the marriage or they would be paired randomly with whoever was left.

Hermione sighed, signing as witness to Harry Potter’s banns. The magical contract that had arrived by owl this morning snapped shut and glowed gold. A booming voice filled the kitchen.

“This serves as the official posted ban of Harry Potter to Ginerva Weasley, there is a contested period of twenty four hours before the marriage must be completed or nullified. If there are any outstanding claims against this match, they shall speak before the end period of the banns or forever hold their peace.”

The scroll disappeared, porting back to the ministry and leaving a glowing gold orb floating in its place. Hermione blinked when the orb shook not seconds later.

“OBJECTION! Raised by the families Greengrass, Bulstrode, Bones, Longbottom, Parkinson, Slywen, Fawley, Olivander, Nott-” The list of names when on and on. Even Molly had stopped crying to stare at the orb listing all those rejecting the marriage. The names just kept coming, seemingly from every pureblooded family in England.

“Enough!” Molly shouted, encasing the orb in a wooden chest floating in the air. It was still speaking but the sounds were muffled. The four people in the room continued to stare at the shouting box.

“Well that was rude,” Ginny said, shaking her mother loose to wrap her hands possessively around the Harry. “Why would they ever think you would accept any of them? You haven’t even met someone from half of those families.”

“Can we make it stop?” Hermione asked, eyeing the wood distastefully. It was not unexpected that there was such aggressive competition for Harry Potter’s banns but the list was still going until Hermione was sure that every family with an available female— no matter how distant— had wanted to offer for him. She didn’t even know Neville _ had  _ any female cousins. How old were they?

“Erm… no thank you,” Harry told the box. “I’m marrying Ginny.”

The muffled sounds still continued so they just shrugged and continued their breakfast waiting for the owls to come flying in. Ginny had gotten hers early, courtesy of Kingsley, hoping to avoid this exact situation.

Molly was of course fluttering over her sons’ futures, caught in this as they all were. Ron got out of it due to his recent impregnation of Lavender. Before all this had been announced, they had been planning a wedding for later in the year. The rest of them only had six months to find someone they want to marry, fall in love, and then post banns for them. Thankfully Bill was already married and Percy engaged. Fred and George were already dating half-bloods, so it was only a matter of time before-

Two golden balls appeared in unison, floating above the kitchen table, (Harry’s still grumbling below.)

“This serves as the official posted ban of-” 

“Katie Bell to George Weasley-

“Angelina Johnson to Fred Weasley-” 

“-there is a contested period of twenty four hours before the marriage must be completed or nullified. If there are any outstanding claims against match, they shall speak before the end period of the banns or forever hold their peace.”

These orbs just glowed silently while the four wizards in the kitchen just watched on in confusion.

“Isn’t that backwards?” Harry finally asked, staring at Molly as she buried her hands in her face.

“Yeah, I thought George was dating Angelina,” Hermione added.

“He was… is.... oh no!” Ginny groaned. 

The floo burst to life and the twins came rolling out of the fireplace in their pajamas.

“Joke! It was a joke!” George coughed. “We didn’t know-”

“That the banns-”Fred continued, “were 24 hours!”

“Reverse it!” They both said in unison, pleading to their mother. 

The floo flared again revealing an incensed Angelina and teary-eyed Katie.

“Oh, you think this is funny do you?” Angelina hissed in a fair imitation of a cobra. George flinched back immediately. Still, Hermione thought he was faring better that Fred who was watching a crying Katie in sheer panic.

“Oh my,” Molly gasped, casting a patronus to send off her to her husband while Hermione watched the drama unfold and sipping her tea. To the twins credit... it was a stupid thing to do. The banns had originally had a date of two weeks but it was whittled down to speed up the process. This stunt has just served to upset their future wives.

“Mollywobbles-”Arthur asked, stepping out of the floo and nearly crashing into a distraught Fred. “Oh, hello boys. Katie dear, what ever the matter?”

“What’s the matter is that your son’s are idiots!” Angelina growled, pausing her attack on George who had gone concernedly pale. “The idiots switched their banns!”

“We thought it would be funny!” Fred offered, only to have Katie burst fully into sobs, drawing a stricken look from Fred.

“Oh dear,” Arthur murmured, shuffling around the incorrectly engaged couples and heading to the table. He kissed Molly on the cheek and caught notice of the floating box. “What’s this then?”

Molly flicked her wand at the box which had finally fallen silent. 

“This is the posted banns of Harry Potter to Ginerva Weasley. There are seventy-six objections would you like to hear the listed names-”

“NO!” The four at the table shouted just as Katie squeaked an affirmative. 

“OBJECTION! Raised by the-” The box was back up and everyone who had already heard it was already groaning.

“Sorry,” Katie hiccupped before turning to Arthur with tearful brown eyes. “Can you fix this?”

“I think you can,” Arthur responded. “You ladies have the right to refusal so you should just be able to reject them and my sons may reapply  _ correctly _ .”

“Not that you should take them,” Ginny muttered from her chair.

“Fine,” Angelina spat tearing away from a thoroughly chastised George. “Which one is mine?”

““This serves as the official posted ban of Angelina Johnson to-”

“Shut up,” Angelina snapped, her temper fraying dangerously. Apparently sensing this the magic did as told and continued to float there. “I reject the banns.”

“On what grounds are these banns rejected.”

“I’m bloody well shagging his brother,” Angelina hissed, making George flush bright red and Molly squeak indignantly.

“...There are no other suitors available. The banns shall stand.”

“What!?!” The room shouted. 

Hermione stared on in horror. The non-pureblood was supposed to be able to reject the banns if they were unsuitable. It was the only thing that had been consistent across all iterations of a law… until last night apparently. 

“Why was… this wasn’t… they aren’t just stuck like this are they?” Hermione asked.

Hermione wasn’t the only one panicking. Katie’s tears were now falling in earnest and Angelina looked like she was going to solve the problem by killing her soon to be ex-boyfriend.

“Stop!” Percy shouted. Hermione hadn’t even seen him, Ron and Lavender come in. “Calm down. This is fixable.”

“That’s not how it’s supposed to work Percy,” Arthur said. “The girls should be able to reject it. Why… why can’t they say no?”

“It was the newest change that finally pushed the law through,” Percy held up a stack of paper. The print was too small to read even if Hermione could see past the horror blurring her vision. “The banns can’t be rejected by the subject without probable cause,” he turned to a relieved looking Ron and Lavender. “Like a pregnancy or outstanding engagement.”

“So they are just stuck with whoever claims them first!” Hermione shouted. “Like cattle?!?”

“No,” Percy responded shuffling through the stack in front of him. “But once a set of banns are posted they must select from the list of suitors within the twenty-four hour time limit or the posted claim stands.”

“Merlin,” Ron groaned his hand wrapped protectively around Lavender’s belly. 

“I, Fred Weasley, oppose the banns of Katie Bell and George Weasley!” Fred shouted at the ball of light. The orb pulsed slightly.

“On what grounds?” The orb asked.

“Er… She’s shagging me, not my brother.” 

Molly was still grumbling under her breath and now both Fred and Katie were flushed red as well.

“Objection! Raised by the house of Weasley under claims of… inter-familial strife.”

“Well that’s fair,” Percy commented. They stared at the orb silently.

“Well go on then,” Angelina growled. The orb didn’t move. Katie untangled herself from Fred and shuffled forward.

“I’d like to reject my banns... please.”

“On what grounds?” The orb asked.

“Er… On Fred Weasley’s objection?” Katie asked.

The orb grew brighter.

“Banns have been rejected pending marriage and consummation between Katie Bell and Fred Weasley. This must be completed by the end of the twenty-four hour period.”

The room watched eagerly but nothing else happened. It was George who leapt forward next.

“I George Weasley oppose-” 

The same scene played out even as Percy cast a patronus, his egret shooting out from the Burrow’s kitchen window. The room was shell shocked, they weren’t ready for a wedding. They were supposed to have months to figure this out. 

“Everyone to the garden; we have to move quickly! Put on your wedding robes if you’ve got them,” Kingsley boomed as he exited the floo. He swore as a vulture patronus flew in through the window, blinking silently at him. “And Abbot has gone to the Lestranges. Salazar’s Might what a mess.”

“Well you heard the man!” Percy shouted. “Move!”

Everyone from the kitchen shuffled out into the garden, Hermione still carrying her cup of tea. 

“Percy, head to Longbottom manor and see if you can’t get Mister Longbottom over to the Abbot’s. Afterward head to the Bone’s, Merlin knows who has claimed  _ her _ .” He swept out into the garden where Molly was transfiguring an archway of flowers, Ginny was trying to turn the twin’s pajamas into something more respectable and Lavender was helping Katie and Angelina turn their robes white. Ron reappeared with Bill, Fleur and little Victorie.

“Alright boys, let’s hurry this up. I have at least ten more weddings to do in the next hour. Harry you too!” Harry jumped, having forgotten about his banns and subsequent engagement from this morning and scurried up to join the twins in the quickest triple wedding England has ever seen. Less than five minutes later the group were all married to their respect partner and Kingsley had lowered his wand. “Well… Go!”

“Right!” The twins pulled their corrected girlfriends off to the ward line. From the look on Angelina’s face she would rather be hexing George than consummating anything. Still they all disappeared with a crack barring Ginny and Harry who were following behind much more awkwardly.

“Miss Granger,” Kingsley approached Hermione, still holding her tea in shock, even though it had cooled ages ago. “Where is your husband? I need to move to the next house.”

“I… I don’t have any posted banns,” she stuttered, the wet ground leaking through her socks. 

“Yet,” Kingsley replied while rubbing his head. “I suggest you go inside and start making a list of any pureblood you would consider acceptable. They are disappearing fast and it is only a matter of time before someone claims you as well.”

“Sir this is-”

“I know Miss Granger. But I don’t have time to argue with you right now. I need to save as many children as I can. Who else should I visit from your year?”

She rattled off a list of names, Thomas, Finnigan, Corner... by the time she had finished nearly everyone in the family had sent off a patronus to one of the names, warning them of the banns and how to prepare.

When they finally headed inside Hermione was all but shaking. The orbs of light had disappeared from the kitchen table, settled in with their new couples. Hermione watched in horror as another ball of light came sailing in through the window, coming to rest directly in front of her.

“This serves as the official posted banns of Hermione Granger to Antonin Dolohov-”

000000000000000000000000000000000 

Hermione barely heard the rest. She just stared in horror at the innocuous floating ball of yellow. 

“How!?!” Arthur roared, shocking his family almost as much as the announcement. “He’s in Azkaban!”

There was a shuffling of papers next to her and Bill cleared his throat. 

“Apparently there will be enforced visitation for…”His throat cleared. “-procreation purposes. If they prove successful he will be put on house arrest pending the birth of his child.”

“I would like to hear any objections please,” Hermione managed with a weak voice.

“There are no objections to the union of Hermione Granger and Antonin Dolohov.”

There was a collective gasp.

“Hermione dear, the list.” Molly shook as she rested her hand on Hermione’s shoulder. The woman had wanted to see all her children off and married, but not like this.

“I… I… What?” Hermione dumbly questioned, unable to get her brain to function.

“Ron. I need you to list the purebloods from your year.... Now!”

“Merlin Mum I don’t-”

“Your boys, Neville, Ernie, Zabini, Nott-” Lavender spoke with shaky breaths.

“Those are Slytherins!” Ron growled.

“There aren’t a lot of us!” Lavender snapped and continued her very short list extending to the years above as well as she could remember them. She paused, drawing Hermione’s attention before she winced. “McLaggen.”

Hermione groaned deeply, hiding her head in her hands. 

“Sorry,” Lavender apologized.

“Call him,” Hermione sighed. Lavender disappeared, shoving her head into the floo in the living room.

“Ron go get your brothers,” Molly said, swapping Hermione’s tea for fresh while she shot off another patronus to Percy. “We need their year too. Bill?”

“Cor mum, all my mates are ten years older than her,” Bill groaned. 

“We don't ‘ave much of an option anymore,” Fleur responded.

Bill groaned and head out to the garden to apparate home and make the calls.

“Don’t worry dear.” Molly said, wrapping Hermione in a tight hug. “We’ll sort this out. The very Prince of England would be tripping over himself to post banns for you.”

0000000000000000000000000

Sixteen hours later Hermione’s prospects were looking bleak. She had gotten additional claims but none of them were good. Goyle, Flint, Montague all claimed right to her and she was feeling thoroughly sick. When McLaggen stepped out of the floo she was ready to throw herself at him.

“Sorry Hermione.” He held up his hand at the relieved looks in the cramped kitchen. “I have already been snapped up. But the banns don’t require monogamy, if you ever get bored of your husband we could-”

He was cut off by Ginny knocking him back into the flames with a curse. She and Harry had arrived back with a red faced Ron and instantly set about recruiting any pureblood over the age of seventeen. Hermione may have felt worse about interrupting her honeymoon if it weren’t for the dire circumstances. 

Unfortunately, the last rejection from Oliver Wood had cleared them out of options. Dean Thomas patted her on the back softly, walking in from the impromptu chapel set up in the Weasley’s garden. He had a pleased-looking Luna tucked tightly under his arm and they headed to the floo without another word. Hermione was glad they found a suitable match… considering that there was no divorce in a magical marriage.

“Krum!” Ron shouted, jumping from his seat in excitement. “Victor Krum is a pureblood!”

Hermione felt her heart flutter in hope. Victor was a good choice. He was kind, thought she was pretty, smart. She still wrote to him at least once a month and he-

“Not a British Citizen. Doesn’t count,” Percy groaned his usual perfectly coiffed hair disheveled and greasy from running his hands through it. 

“Did anyone tell Fleur that?” Bill asked. They had all switched to firewhiskey after noon and had not gone back. “She’s been gone all afternoon.”

As if summoned there was a dramatic crack that shook the burrow. They all blinked at the back door when it snapped open, a proud veela blocking the way with her chest puffed out.

“‘Ave we found anyone?”

“No,” Hermione responded sullenly. She wondered briefly what sort of schedule she would be required to follow for visiting her husband in Azkaban. Maybe they would let her bring some tea cosys to liven up the place. Grey was such a dour color after all.

“I ‘ave found ze answer!” Fleur stepped forward revealing a cloaked figure behind her. She pulled his hood back and Hermione was flummoxed to find herself looking at Charlie Weasley.

“Would anyone like to explain what I am doing here?” Charlie asked.


	2. Chapter 2

Charlie had no idea why everyone was looking at him like some sort of saint. As far as he knew he had come back from lunch to a very pissed off sister-in-law that had half the men on the reserve drooling and the other half fearing for their life. By the time she grabbed him the rapidly-spoken, accented English was too hard to follow and he found himself porting an incredibly long distance without explanation. 

Fleur barely gave him another moment’s notice before dragging him through multiple floos and apparitions until they finally landed in the orchard of his childhood home. He was so sick and dizzy from the past two hours of transport he could only stumble after the veela as she threw open the door to his house.

Now he was sick, confused, and- was his mum drinking firewhiskey?

“Who died?” Charlie asked, shaking off the rain that had hit them somewhere in France off of his dark green outer robe. He tossed in onto the coat rack and shook out his hair as well. Fleur had skipped over to Bill who had his arms wrapped around her tightly and was whispering praise in a voice that was  _ not _ considered family friendly. It made Charlie feel like a dead bird that a cat had dragged home.

“Your bachelor lifestyle!” One of the twins —George from the lack of ear— stood up and threw his arm around Charlie. 

“It was a good run while it lasted! But it is time to settle down.” Fred mirrored his twin and Charlie caught sight of the simple gold bands on their left hands.

“Dragon’s teeth! You idiots got married!” Charlie’s eyes fell on their recently acquired girlfriends, Katie and Angelina. He had only heard about the two through letters. “And since I wasn’t invited I can only imagine you eloped. No wonder mum is drinking!”

He quickly scurried over to his new sister-in-laws and hugged them tightly. This was such a nice surprise. With the way Fleur had been dragging him across the continent he was sure it was something grievous and terrible.

“How did those spare parts trick two beautiful women like you two into marriage?” Charlie asked, wanting to charm his new family members. If the veela was any indication of his future interactions with them he wanted to start out on the best foot possible.

“The Ministry played no small part in it,” Angelina scoffed but still smiled at a bashful George.

“Where’s my hug big brother?” Harry Potter stood from the table unwrapping his arm from Ginny’s shoulder, another plain gold band on his ring finger. Charlie glanced down to a smug little sister with a diamond the size of a sickle on her hand. His eyes narrowed dangerously and Harry paled.

“We don’t have time for this,” Percy said as he stood. “Charlie did you get an owl this morning from the Ministry?”

“Perce you know it takes days to get owls to us.”

“I was afraid of that,” his younger brother groaned. Percy looked like he had aged five years since the last time Charlie had seen him. He was clearly working too much.

“So you sent Fleur to come get me. I get that this was wonderful news but couldn’t it have waited a few hours rest in between? I think I left my liver back in Germany.”

“Charlie,” his father said, stepping forward with none of his usual easy demeanor present. “This is no laughing matter.”

It was at that moment he realized he hadn’t been crushed by his mother’s strong arms or told off for having too long of hair. He was all but shocked to find her within prime hugging distance but instead, her arms were around a rather frazzled looking Hermione Granger. 

She looked stressed, her hair exploding in wild ringlets from between where her fingers were buried in it. She was dressed in a muggle shirt that clung to her skin and cut low enough on her chest that Charlie had to remind himself that she was his little brother’s ex-girlfriend and thus _not_ an appropriate target for checking out. Her eyes seemed hollow and there was a glowing yellow ball of magic floating behind her. When he looked at it, his skin crawled.

“What on earth is that thing?” Charlie asked, feeling the room collectively hold their breath.

“You better have a seat son.”

00000000

“Absolutely not!” Charlie said as soon as the explanation was out. It was bad enough he had to find a wife within six months, he could begrudging manage that. The fact that they wanted him shacked up with Hermione of all people… He supposed it  _ did  _ sort of make sense. He was familiar and gentle. For all his bachelor way his family knew he was a good man and would take proper care of her. Hell, if he were a member of any other pureblood family he probably wouldn’t have been able to pick his wife anyway.

God, pick his  _ wife.  _ Like she was just a broomstick to pull off the shelf. He turned toward the witch in question, her hands folded primly in her lap and her perfectly white teeth poking out to chew an already worried lip. She certainly was one hell of a catch; proven strong, wickedly intelligent and intensely compassionate. He had been sending her copies of his research for years and she always owled him with feedback and ideas but they had never dissolved into anything other than academic. A phenomenal catch indeed, just not for him.

“I can’t marry you.” He saw Hermione flinch and instantly felt a powerful stab of guilt. “Er… sorry but… I barely know you. There has to be someone else-”

“There are plenty of someone’s alright,” Bill scoffed. “Dolohov, Crabbe, Goyle, McNair, Lestrange. All Senior not their children by the by. They’ll all see her as close to death as they can legally leave her within ten minutes.” 

“What about…” Charlie tried to dreg up the names of his old classmate. “Travis Yaxley or Orpheus Rowle or-”

“We’ve tried them all,” Percy said. “This is it. You are the only non-dark pureblood left unattached in England.”

“I…” Charlie blinked at the hopeful looks around him. Merlin he would rather take the dragon fire than these looks. He glanced down at Hermione seated next to him, her bright round eyes were staring at the floor while she chewed her lip. He knew she was smart, and according to Ginny’s letters fiercer than fire. But right now she was just sitting there, letting the people around her seemingly decide her future for her.

“I can’t do it,” he said, watching her hands clench. “I’m sorry Hermione but… I… I cannot believe I have to think of a reason  _ not  _ to marry you. It should be obvious from our ages or-”

“It’s fine Charlie.” Her voice was so weak, he was taken aback. It sounded nothing like the small snippy thing bossing around his loud younger brother at the quidditch world cup a few years back. “Thank you for coming. I’ll just… I’ll just pick from my other options.”

“The hell you will!” Ron pushed off from the wall.

“Ron don’t-”

“I’ll marry you,” he shouted to the room. 

Charlie looked around blankly at everyone’s horrified expression. To Charlie it was the perfect solution. Sure their little romance had broken up a while back but they could just have marriage on convenience until they could find a way out of it. At worse they could just have other partners and-

“Absolutely not!” A girl stood from the couch. Judging from the small melon under her shirt, Charlie placed her as the bird his brother had gotten up in the duff. His mother lectured Charlie for weeks about settling down after that.

“Ron don’t,” Hermione pleaded. Her eyes were shining with tears and Charlie resisted the urge to reach an arm around her shoulder to comfort her. It would send all the wrong messages and get her hopes up.

“Lavender," Ron sighed, folding the girl’s hands in his. “I know. And I’m still going to be there for you. But Hermione may very well die-”

Charlie shivered at that word. Surely it couldn’t be-

“How? How will you be there for me and your child while you are married and trying to get her pregnant?” Charlie jumped back to attention at that. “Are you going to move me in? Ask her to just stick around long enough for you to stick a baby in her before you leave?”

“Pregnant?” he asked Percy off to his left. 

Percy just sighed and handed him a document open to a marked passage. Charlie frowned deeply, not only did she have to marry one of these assholes, she had to get pregnant within a year or they would hand her off to someone else. Fucking hell, what what going on in the Ministry. God Godric, would they force her to visit her husband in Azkaban?!?

“I have to do  _ something _ ! I can’t just leave her to those monsters,” Ron shouted. “Lav, I love you and I want to marry you more than anyone else. But she is my friend and I can’t just give her up to a bunch of Death Eaters on a silver platter.”

“It’s fine Ron-” Hermione started.

“No it’s not fine!” Ron interrupted shocking Charlie with his rage. He had missed Ron growing up and the war had turned the pampered youngest son into a force to be reckoned with. “It is bad enough you are being auctioned off to the first claim on you. I can’t do anything about that. But I can do this.”

“At the cost of your relationship with Lavender!” Hermione shouted back, practically startling Charlie from his seat as she stood. “She is the mother of your child Ron!”

Hermione’s eyes were sparking with that missing fire from earlier and her fist was clenched tightly around her wand. The girl had good instincts, and held herself up on long strong legs that braced her body in a fighting stance. It wasn’t particularly fair of him, but Charlie’s eyes roved up her legs, widening slightly at the gentle curve of her hips and chest. He saw Bill glaring at him from the other side of the room and swore lowly in Romanian. He'd probably be getting a lecture about that soon.

“And you are my best friend!” Ron continued.

“I wouldn’t ever ask you to give her up!”

“And I am telling you that I won’t give you up either!” Ron shouted. “Do you think they’ll ever let you see us? Do you think that even if they leave you in healthy enough shape to move let alone allow you pursue your own passions or even leave the house? You’ll be a doll Hermione. A slave!”

“That’s not-” 

“Ron that’s too far,” Harry cautioned standing up slowly. Lavender had blanched behind his youngest brother and Katie was helping to lower her onto the couch.

“It’s not far enough,” Ron said, turning his focus back on Hermione. “They will ruin you. You will be nothing but a shell to put a baby in. After that, the bastard will probably just share you with his sick friends for fun. Everything that is Hermione Granger will disappear from this world and we will never see you again. Is that clear enough ‘Mione? Do you understand why I can’t let this happened?”

“I don’t care what happens to me!” she screamed. “I won’t take the happiness from someone else’s life so we can all be miserable. I still have six hours to find someone.”

“It’s the middle of the night Hermione. There  _ is  _ no one left!”

“Then I will give up my magic.” Hermione crossed her arms and the kitchen gasped. Charlie’s mouth hung open. There was little worse to a wizard than a life without magic. He knew she had grown up in the muggle world but this was… to give up her magic would be like taking away a part of her soul. She would never be the same again.

Hermione was the first to break the silence. 

“You deserve happiness too, Ron,” she said, slipping back into her small voice. “You and Lavender both.”

000000000000000000000000000

“I’ll do it.” Hermione jumped at the deep rolling voice behind her. 

“What?” she asked, not daring to hope.

Charlie stood, dragging a hand through his shaggy hair. The action pulled his linen shirt tight against his arms, outlining thick muscles with the way his strange leather harness pulled taut against his stomach. His heavy leather gloves were clipped to the belt of dark brown trousers that hugged his sculpted legs tightly before tucking tightly into mud (she hoped it was mud) caked work boots that should have Molly going spare. Fleur must have grabbed him directly from work.

“I’ll marry you,” Charlie growled to the air, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling.  Hermione could just make out the dragon tattoo his mother hated poking out over the loose-laced collar of his shirt before it disappeared. A small braid that was woven with a few carved beads and a feather clipped around his ear and trailed along his neck. She was willing to bet that was some sort of dragon tamer right of passage.

“Hermione?” Harry’s voice cut through her ogling. There were certain worse prospects than Charlie Weasley. Hell, this morning she was genuinely considering Cormac McLaggen. 

“What?” Hermione asked, turning to her best friend.

“Are you okay with this?” he asked. “Everyone is kind of assuming you’ll just take him… but... if you’d rather not…”

“You can still keep looking,” Charlie said. “I don’t mind waiting until the very last minute. I know I’m pretty much the dead-last choice over here.”

“That’s not- '' Hermione was about to say true, but it would have been a lie. He hadn’t even crossed anyone’s mind as a consideration except for Fleur’s. Bless her.

“Who are you going to find Charlie?” Molly asked, floating a bottle of firewhiskey and tea kettle around the room. “We had just paired the last of the half-blood witches we knew hours ago. This law still applies to you.”

“And I’ll figure it out,” Charlie snapped. “I’m not forcing her into it if she has a better choice. I have six months to figure out my problem, she has...Perce?”

“Six...well five and a half hours,” Percy provided glaring at his pocket watch as if it would grant them more time.

“Thank you,” Charlie finished. “She doesn’t need to be pushed together with me just because it’s convenient for you lot.”

At that everyone turned to Hermione, waiting for her answer. Her face flushed bright red when she realized they were waiting for her response Four in the morning did not seem like the appropriate time to be making life changing decisions. Still when she looked at her only non-Death Eater prospect for a husband she was able to manage a small smile.

“Charlie,” she started drawing his attention up. Unlike the rest of the Weasley boys, his eyes weren’t the soft ice blue of the winter sky. His were blue-flecked hazel, a carry over from his mother’s side of the family. They were incredibly open even in spite of the tension and she only barely noticed that he was holding his breath. Forcing herself to be more bold than she was feeling she grabbed his large hand in hers. They were rough and calloused from the years of hard labor on the reserve, but he still held hers so gently.

“You are kind, caring, intelligent, and if I’m allowed to say it,” she flicked her eyes around the room flushing quite strongly. “Very handsome. You are certainly not a last choice. If… If you would be willing to marry me I would consider it an honor.”

“Gods, it shouldn’t be a matter of  _ willing _ or not.” Charlie groaned, rubbing his thumb over his hand. “This is so unfair for you. I’m so bloody sorry.”

“We’re all sorry Hermione,” Arthur added. “Wizarding kind has let you down for the second time now.”

The air in the room seemed stagnant and dead as the burrow creaked above them in the wind. Hermione realized belatedly she was still holding Charlie's hand but couldn’t bear to let it go. They were going to be married shortly anyway, so why get hung up on it now.

“I never expected my wedding to be so dour,” Hermione laughed weakly.

“It won’t be,” Molly stated, standing up stalwartly. The matron wiped away watery tears and set her mouth into a firm line. “At the very least we can give you that. Fred, George, with me in the garden. Fleur, Bill find something suitable for Charlie to wear, and cut his hair if you can. It’s too long for a proper groom.”

“Ginny, boys,” she said, turning to Ron and Harry. “Get Hermione upstairs. Lavender honey, if you are up for it, can you whip up a cake? Percy find the Minister and help him take care of the Objection. We are going to be doing this right.”

The kitchen jumped into motion as Weasleys leapt to do as instructed. Hermione found herself being dragged towards Ginny’s old room by her friends. Ron and Harry were useless for getting ready but did serve to make her laugh while threatening Charlie in great detail if he managed to screw this up. Ron withdrew a sun dress with large sunflowers on the skirt and Harry charmed it white instead of blue while Ginny worked on her hair. Lavender sheepishly appeared to help with makeup and tried to apologize but Hermione just waved her off. It wasn’t her fault that Ron was an unmitigated arse. A thoughtful, kind, loyal arse but still an arse.

An hour later she didn’t feel like a bride, but she certainly felt pretty at least. Dawn was peeking up over the hilltops when she stepped out into the garden. True to her word, Molly had made it all spectacular. Her cucumber vines had been transfigured to fresh smelling wisteria leading down a makeshift aisle. Fred and George had managed a silencing spell on their fireworks so that bright colors flashed silently in the sky above them in reds and golds. 

Charlie was waiting at the end of the aisle in a white dress shirt with too tight shoulders and the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms. Unsurprisingly, Bill had not cut his hair, but Fleur had at least brushed it and swept it to either side. Kingsley stood next to him, resplendent but exhausted looking in his most official robes

“Your wedding wasn't this nice,” Ron grumbled to Harry.

“Yeah well I got to marry who I wanted so I think it’s only fair she gets a big to-do.”

“My parents aren’t here,” Hermione said when the realization struck her. Her father and her had fought teasingly for years about how she would never let her give him away at her wedding. That the tradition was archaic and sexist. Now she would give anything to have him by her side. But he didn’t know who she was and was still half a world away.

“I’m so sorry ‘Mione,” Ron said softly.

“Everyone is sorry,” Hermione responded, taking the offered bouquet from Katie before the girl hurried over to Angelina. The two raised their wands, soft music flowing through the air.

“Can we…” Harry coughed awkwardly clearing his throat. “I know it’s not the same but can me and Ron walk you down the aisle?”

Hermione breathing hitched as she fought off tears. She would not cry, not where Charlie could see. He already felt bad enough about all of this.

“Yes, please,” she managed, not being able to face it alone.

Both boys looped their arms through hers, waiting for her to start the procession. Hermione took a deep breath, aware that this was not how it was ever supposed to be. Still she allowed herself the little bit of wonder when her foot first stepped into the tunnel. 

A gold dragon made of embers and sparks burst into existence above her, curling in the air as they moved. The magical firework swept up into the sky, looping forward in time with her steps. It was honestly some of the twin's best work... wasted on a sham of a wedding.

She couldn’t look at Charlie so she kept her head tilted down, focusing on the wildflowers that had been gathered from the nearby field. Harry and Ron guided her, which was a good thing, she wasn’t sure she would have moved otherwise. Still, it felt all too sudden when she was discovered herself surrounded by family and friends, under an umbrella of tomato vines transfigured into roses.

“Under the loving eyes of relationships forged and chosen we have gathered here today-” Kingsley’s voice was scratchy from overuse but it wasn’t as nearly as rushed as the other weddings that had taken place at the Burrow that day. Still Hermione jumped when she recognized the familiar words prompting her to withdraw her wand.

“May magic bless this union. May your home never hunger. May love grow and flourish between the two of you. To fulfill this wish, the intended shall offer a gift. Charlie Weasley what is your gift?”

“I offer my magic, to be bound to hers freely.” Charlie turned to her and held out his wand.

“By what do you swear to hold and protect her,” Hermione gulped. It just occurred to her that she didn’t have time to research or write her vows. She was going to fumble desperately over them. Charlie seemed to have the same realization and his eyes shifted around them in a panic.

“By the love of my family and friends I swear.”

His wand glowed with a rich copper light, pulsing in slow constant waves. The visual soothed her, calling to her own magic like a beacon. Calm, steady… like Charlie. 

“Hermione Granger, what is your gift?” She took a breath.

“I offer my magic, to be bound to his freely.” The ceremony seemed to have very loose definitions of ‘freely’ as she carefully laid her vinewood over his. She didn’t even know what wood his wand was made of. His first one had been ash but-

“By what do you swear to hold and protect him?”

She chewed her lip. Charlie had already chosen family and friends. She glanced around hoping the words would appear in front of her. She needed something strong, something that would seal the binding tightly. She couldn’t risk it failing.

The life growing in the garden died in winter, it was too temporary. The fireworks burning around them would go out eventually. The stars above, too far away and cold. None of it was right. If only she had more time.

“Hermione?” Charlie whispered. She looked up for the first time, his focused hazel eyes locked on hers. She saw the sliver of fear etched across his freckled face and she took solace in the fact that at least she wasn’t alone. The sunrise chose that moment to peek up in earnest behind him, illuminating his hair to a vibrant curtain of reds and golds. It was so warm and comforting that the next words slide from her mouth easily and sure.

“By the ever-rising sun, I swear.” 

Hermione had to blink away the brightness from her eyes. Her own magic glowed a yellow so luminous that it was nearly white. The spiked and scattered patterns shifted and slid about before eventually coming back to her wand tip once again. It pulled towards Charlie’s magic but did not touch, sparking around it while his seemed to curl around hers.

“On our magic we promise this,” Kingsley boomed, his hand hovering under the tips of the wands, guiding them upward. “This union will be one of care and respect. May these two be joined as partners in life and in soul.”

When Kingsley’s hand dropped away there was a collective exhale and Hermione’s magic rushed over Charlie’s. Hermione saw the copper greet it warmly, swirling with the white-yellow until it looked like liquid flame, tempering her panic and soothing her soul.

“As it was, as it is, as it had been, and as it will be. You are bound by the ancient laws of magic. Rejoice and may this bonding bear fruit.”

Just as suddenly as it had all started the magic of the ceremony whipped away in a gust of wind radiating from their wands. It took with it the fireworks, charms and transfigurations until Hermione was standing in a blue dress, with her hair a wreck, under the spicy vines of a tomato plant that were slowly tilting over.

“This is usually the part where you kiss your bride,” Kingsley whispered softly, his eyes filled with regret and sorrow. “The binding is strong, you are well suited. But you need to do the rest on your own.”

Hermione was about to insist that it wasn’t necessary. The banns would be satisfied, the marriage just needed to be consummate. Oh god, she hadn’t even-

A pleased shiver rolled down her spine as Charlie stepped closer, his fingers carefully guided her face back to him. His eyes were anything but regretfully, they all but shimmered in pride and affection. Hermione knew it wasn’t real, just as much as she knew her own emotions were skewed from the intimacy of the bond. The bone-shaking allure and warmth were nothing but a lie... But still, she let herself be weak, pretending that he loved her and it was the wedding she had never known she wanted. She let her eyes drift closed and raised up on her tiptoes. Somehow she had forgotten shoes and the bare earth seemed to hum beneath her feet.

Charlie dropped his head and she felt his breath ghost across her cheek once before there was an almost imperceivable pressure against her lips. Her brain rioted, endorphins of joy and relief washing through her system after the impossibly long day. She wanted to kiss back, to let him know that she was grateful and even pleased by the match but just as quickly he pulled away.

There was no rice or birdseed or bubbles. As a matter of fact when Hermione opened her eyes and glanced around she wasn’t met by any celebration at all. Just the slightly sad smiles of her friends and family as they watched her.

She didn’t flinch when Charlie took her hand, it was warm and felt like the only stable thing in her life right now. With only the slightest hesitation she stepped closer to him until her shoulder brushed his, instinctively wanting to be near. He looked down at her, the hazel eyes reading her face with a gentle smile. After a moment he cleared his throat.

“Er… mum. You said something about cake?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Le gasp! Married?!? Who could have ever seen that coming? I blame Fleur.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... My thanksgiving was cancelled. DAMN YOU COVID!
> 
> Bad news: You have 4 chapters not 3. I apologize. It is a personal failing of mine that I am permanently unable to predict story length, even when completed. IDK why I am like this.
> 
> Good news: This massive interest in this fic has inspired me to write a longfic involving dragons, time travel and world building... so... that may be bad news actually now that I think about it. In any event, keep an eye out for it.

Charlie thought Lavender was a crack hand at baking. The cake half-chocolate and half-coffee flavored that spiraled in the center layer making a delicious mocha that was somehow better than the two. Chocolate had always been his favorite but that title was swiftly up for grabs. 

He was unsurprisingly pulled away by his brothers as soon as the cake had been cut and Hermione was pulled away by his mother, both of them red in the face as the elder witch handed her something. Surprisingly his eldest brothers had been replaced by Harry and Ron. Between them and the twins Charlie discovered that he was in for a rather creative future if he didn’t take care of his new wife.

_ Wife.  _

That word again. Nattering Norlucks he was married. He looked over his shoulder, ignoring a rather anatomically impossible description involving his kidneys and toenails. She was sitting in the living room by the fire. Her dress had started off white but was now a soft blue that reminded him of the open skies of Romania. Her hair had been somewhat tamed earlier but he preferred it like this, blown out and as wild as the dragon he lived with.

That was another thing. He had to get back to the reserve. He still needed to work. How was he going to explain this to his boss? What were the requirements for his husband duties? Would he need to slip away from the reserve a few days a month or just until she was pregnant? Merlin what if he had to quit? Did she have a career that she couldn’t give up? He knew nothing about her. Good Godric, what was he going to do about children? He wasn’t ready for this. Any of this with anyone. Let alone a girl he barely knew.

“Mate,” Charlie was snapped out of his thoughts by Bill's heavy hand on his shoulder. The rest of his brother’s had cleared out, moving to join the women in the living room.  _ Their wives.  _ Merlin what a mess. Bill was frowning, the action pulling deeply at his scars. “It’s time.”

“For what?” Charlie asked, his eyes landing back on the curly haired witch who was laughing at something Katie had said. 

“You know what,” Bill said. Charlie felt the blood drain from his face. “Don’t let her see you like that. This is hard enough for her as is.”

“Right.” Charlie coughed shaking himself and trying to take on the cool demeanor he used when bluffing against overaggressive drakes. He had faced down literal man-eating monsters, why was this so hard? Still he squared his shoulders, preparing to walk straight into the dragon fire. “Right… Could you distract them? I’m aware that everyone will know where we’ve gone off too but I doubt she wants to acknowledge that.”

“I’m the one covering for you and your girl this time,” Bill smiled lightly as he said it. “How the tables have turned.”

Charlie flushed. She wasn’t his girl. She was Hermione. She was… well his wife but still. Bill just laughed, taking joy in teasing his younger brother even after all these years. The eldest Weasley offered him a broad smile before striding into the living room, Charlie in tow. Charlie briefly wondered if he had picked the habit up from his wife.

Bill deposited him next to Hermione, pulling the witch to her feet under the guise of a hug, then nudged her toward Charlie. Bill grabbed a tea cup and a spoon, clinking the metal against his china.

“I’d like to propose a toast. To Charlie and Hermione. May their marriage be happy and fulfilling.”

Cheers of agreement sounded through the room, making him shift uncomfortably. Hermione did as well, but she shifted closer to him. Almost without thinking, he rested his hand on her lower back.

“As the defacto best man,” that statement resulted in an uproar of protest from his other brothers. Charlie took the moment to lower his voice and whisper to her.

“We need to go.” He tried to sound as comfortable and kind about it as he could but she still stiffened under his finger tips. He hesitantly began to rub her small circles along her spine, hoping it would calm her.

“Should we say goodbye?” she asked finally just as Harry stood up to claim co-best man on Hermione’s side, an action that had Ron blustering and shouting. Hermione shifted closer to him and he could just feel the tickling softness of her curls against his neck. Even as the shortest Weasley he was still fairly tall and he could just about tuck her head under his chin.

“Do you want to?” he asked lowly, fighting off the urge to do just that, to curl his large frame around her smaller one and hide her from all of this. He wanted to make this easier, to make it all go away. Part of it was the new, insistent thrumming of the bond urging him to take care of her. The other part was because it was just the decent thing to do.

“No.” 

“Alright then.” Charlie applied a light pressure to her back, not far from what he would have done when cajoling a dragon back into its pen. You didn’t want to push too insistently, otherwise they would get snappy.

_ Merlin man. She isn’t a dragon! She’s your wife!  _

“Okay,” Hermione answered before moving. They slipped back into the kitchen, Hermione’s eyes flicking cautiously to the stairs. He blanched but covered it by guiding her toward the door. No way this was happening in his childhood bedroom where everyone could hear. Way too weird. Instead he pulled her out to the garden, bathed in the early morning light.

Outside seemed like a bad idea too. He knew he was a wreck, still covered in sweat from the reserves and exhausted from staying up all night. Dirt didn’t need to be added into the equation. 

“Erm… I suppose I should ask if there is somewhere you’d like to go.” he asked.

Charlie turned back to his bride, his face hot. He supposed embarrassment was a more understandable look than scared shitless. She looked beautiful in the early morning sun even with the dark rings under her impossibly large brown eyes. Her curls cast soft shadows across her face, highlighting fine cheekbones and an adorably scrunched nose as she thought. Her lip was nearly chewed raw and he made a mental note to be mindful of that later… now… whatever.

“Not particularly.” She shifted her weight, wrapping her arms around her small waist defensively. “A hotel maybe?”

Poor thing was shock scared. That upset him. She could be a lot of things he couldn’t control right now but she didn’t need to be afraid. Not of him. 

Charlie wrapped his arm around her shoulders. When she didn’t flinch away he exhaled slowly. He held up his wand thinking of the warm molten color of their magics melding together until he felt like he was drowning in it. There was no more powerful moment in his life than feeling that color wash over him, bathing him in the hues of the rising sun. It was the color of life, happiness, and her all rolled into one. If there was ever a time for a corporeal Patronus it was now. 

An silvery occamy burst from his wand, twisting through the gaps between their bodies on feathered wings before coming to rest just in front of him. He blinked, trying to figure out what it meant while Hermione’s fingers ran lightly over the spectral feathers, her eyes watching it in soft wonder. When the flying serpent looked at him expectantly he spoke.

“Marcy, I’m in London. There’s this mad law passed and… well I am married now and using your flat for my honeymoon. I’ll explain when I get back.” 

He ended the message and the occamy twirled once around the two of them before shooting away into the sky until it faded into the light. Charlie watched it disappear with a certain sadness. There would be a lot of explaining to do once he went home… if he could go home… if it was home anymore. He was so lost in thought he barely noticed the stiff witch under his arm.

“Who is Marcy?” Hermione asked with a shaking voice. He looked down to be greeted by wide eyes filled with horror. “Oh Charlie. Please don’t tell me I took you from someone.”

Charlie laughed before he could stop it. A large booming laugh filled with relief and stress of the day. The image of Marcy receiving his message and laughing her teeth out at the idea of him getting married at all, overlaid with Hermione’s concern of a long time secret girlfriend was simply absurd.

“No, you didn’t. Marcy is a fellow dragon handler. She is my best mate and most certainly nothing else,” Charlie explained, feeling the tension leave her shoulders. “Marcy has a flat in muggle London she uses when she visits family. I figure it would be less impersonal than a room at the Leaky.”

And just like that it was awkward again.

“That’s very considerate of you Charlie,” Hermione responded evenly. “You’re sure she won’t mind?”

“Naw, we do this all the time,” Hermione flinched. “Er… for Christmas and stuff. The Burrow gets to tight for me nowadays so I stay at hers.”

“Oh... alright then. Are we apparating?”

“If you don’t mind side-along.”

“As long as you don’t splinch us,” Hermione laughed weakly. 

“I’ll get us there in one piece.” Charlie dropped his arm to her waist and pulled her a bit closer than strictly necessary. She was warm against his chest and so _ very  _ soft. “Mostly.”

She managed a quick squeak before there was a CRACK and they were gone.

000000000000000000000000000000

Marcy must have come from old money. Hermione reasoned as she stared at the spires of West Minster Abbey. Charlie led her from the apparition point tucked into a hollow of trees in a nearby park. Despite their rather providential outfits the doorman of the upscale apartment complex merely sneered and tapped at his computer when Charlie nodded at him.

The elevator opened without prompting and Charlie led them in. It went to a floor near the top and opened up into a short hallway. Charlie stopped outside door three and withdrew his wand muttering a quick unlocking spell. The door clicked open and he waved her in.

For all the grandness of the building the apartment itself was homey and comforting. It was wrapped in rich golds and dark woods with plants poking out from every available surface. The massive floor to ceiling windows let light fall onto the sunken bowl of the living room and gleam off the stainless steel kitchen appliances behind her. A spiral staircase led to a loft where she would guess the bed was. Her cheeks flared brilliantly at the thought.

“It’s so big.”

“Yeah,” Charlie said shrugging off his dark green cloak and tossed it haphazardly over a nearby chair. He was clearly at home here. “Marce may have been a badger but she has always liked the sky. I joke that the only reason she took a job on the reserve is because she wasn’t a good enough chaser and flying with dragons was the next best thing.”

“Charlie!” Hermione admonished before she could stop herself.

“Yeah yea, I know. But it’s our humor.” He didn’t seem bothered by her bossiness and stretched his arms over his head. “I know we’re kind of on a time crunch here but I’d take a shower if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Hermione responded in relief. It would give her time to relax a bit and explore the place. 

Charlie nodded and popped the first button of the too tight shirt off, drawing her eyes back down to where his tattoo shifted to race under his fingers. Her breath caught watching the flutter of a wing across his collar bone before it was gone again. It wasn’t until he cleared his throat she realized she was still staring.

“Or I could just head up now if you keep looking at me like that,” Charlie laughed as if it were an easy joke but Hermione thought his voice had dropped a bit lower than usual. 

“Er, sorry. I just forgot you had a tattoo.” When he frowned, she panicked a bit. “I can’t wait to see it.”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth she was cursing herself. She turned towards the kitchen with red cheeks and set about making tea. She purposely ignored the soft huffs of laughter from Charlie as he drifted down the hall. 

By the time she pulled the kettle off she heard the water kick on somewhere in the flat. She exhaled slowly, giving herself time to collect her bearings. She could do this. It was just sex. Charlie was perfectly handsome and kind. Her body would do what it was supposed to, there was no concern about that. 

She just wasn’t sure about the rest of it. They were married now and what if he didn’t like her scars or how inexperienced she was? He was stuck with her for life or at the very least until they had a child together. That was another thing, she had been prepping herself for motherhood ever since the law began to pick up steam, knowing she had a limited time before it would go in full effect but now…

One thing at a time. She had to worry about right now first. There were barely three hours before she defaulted to Dolohov and she imagined the monster was counting the seconds in his cell. She was a Gryffindor damn it. If she could face down Bellatrix Lestrange's wand she could enjoy a handsome man.

Hermione stomped up the spiral staircase feeling much more herself than she had in the past twenty-four hours. She resolved that being a shrinking violet was unfair to both herself and Charlie. As it was he was probably horrified at the thought of having to have sex with a girl he knew when she was still a bucked tooth know-it-all. Thank god he was gone for most of her schooling or else this would be impossibly weird.

Hermione’s heart leapt when she saw the massive bed in the center of the room. The black satin sheets caught the sun glinting in from the windows shining like liquid obsidian. Before she could panic too much the water shut off downstairs. She wrenched open a wardrobe door thankful for the mirror she found.

Ginny and Lavender had done their best but the magic wave after her and Charlie’s bonding had stripped it all away. Hermione frowned and swirled her hair back into a precarious knot, the curls already straining to be released. Her hands shook as she cast a weak healing charm on her abused lower lip along with a breath freshening charm. She wasn’t quite bold enough to just throw herself on the bed so instead she sat delicately on the edge, setting her always-present extended bag on the nightstand. She swallowed tightly as Charlie called for her, his voice echoing in the apartment.

“Up here,” she called slightly shocked to hear her voice waver. She snatched at her bag, pulling out the pale pink potion Molly had given her right after the wedding. The color was soothing as it rolled in her hand.

“What’ve you got there?” She jumped at Charlie's voice, suddenly at the top of the stairs. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

She offered him a small smile. He had a towel slung low around his hips, his muscular chest on full display as he walked forward. She instantly relaxed about her own self image seeing the multitude of scars marking his skin. Curving over his right hip and skimming low across the ‘v’ of his hips were three thin silver lines that could have only come from a claw. The discolored burn marks were obvious and scattered over his skin like swatches of paint. Little droplets of water fell from his hair and Hermione had to keep from tracing the path they took down his broad shoulders.

“See something you like?” Charlie asked, when he came to a stop in front of her. Hermione was not ashamed to be caught staring, it was what they were here for after all. Still something was missing.

“Where’s your dragon?” Hermione asked, using the excuse to run her eyes over the subtle ridges of his stomach. She followed the trail of hair until it disappeared into the towel. He was just a foot or two away, if she reached out and grabbed the towel she could-

She shook her head to clear it and looked up, wondering why he hadn’t answered. A pleased little feeling bloomed in her chest when she saw him staring at her thighs where her dress had bunched up. His right hand twitched.

“Charlie?” she asked her voice a bit breathless.

“Sorry what?” he asked, drawing his eyes back to her.

“Your dragon?”

“That’s a hell of a name for it,” Charlie quipped with a laugh. Hermione rolled her eyes and swatted at his ribs. He jumped back just in time for her hand to long graze his skin lightly. God he was so warm.

“You’re tattoo you arse,” Hermione grumbled.

“Oh she’s-” Charlie's hand ran over his shoulder and he looked down only to find the expected in missing. “Where in the devil's snare?”

Hermione laughed as Charlie did a quick check for his wayward tattoo. “Ah ha! Stop that! What are you hiding for? She said she’s been waiting to see you, you vain creature.”

Hermione flushed deep red even as he turned, the thick muscles of his shoulders bleeding into his back and pulling tight down his spine. And there, dead center and just above the hem of his towel, was a dragon the size of her splayed hand. She blinked at the thick black silhouette with brilliant yellow eyes. It was curled tight around itself, poking its head out from under a wing to glare at her.

“She seems shy,” Hermione laughed. She reached out to run her hand over the skin only for the drawn dragon to snap testily at her fingers. Hermione doubted she would feel anything but still diverted her hand to land on Charlie’s hip instead, slowly dragging them closer to the bristling creature. Charlie stiffened but the tattooed dragon slowly uncurled, reaching its neck out cautiously until her fingers were running over the ink. She knew it wasn’t a real animal, that it was just a compilation color and magic, but her heart still fluttered as it curled around her hand. Suddenly it spread its wings wide before leaping up Charlie’s spine in what she supposed was a depiction of flight. Her finger’s followed the assent until she couldn’t reach anymore and she let her hand drip back down his spine while the creature disappeared over his shoulder.

“So,” Charlie cleared his throat, spinning around to face her. His tattoo had curled against his neck, resting there in a happy doze. “What have you got there?”

Hermione glanced down at the potion in dread.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay... so this chapter should be two chapters but I refuse to ever split a smut scene. So I am posting as is. Deal with you very long smut chapter.
> 
> In other news: Happy Thanksgiving, I'm slightly tipsy so please alert me to any typos.
> 
> Also: First chapter of my long fic charmione (The Eastern Front) has been posted. Check it out if you'd like. It's only a thing because you all have been so supportive.

“Your mother knows far too much about our sex life,” Hermione joked weakly, offering up the potion. Charlie took it, and unscrewed the cap to sniff. He nearly tossed the vial across the room with how quickly he ripped it away from his face.

“A lust potion? I don’t know whether to be disgusted or insulted,” he scoffed.

“I see no reason you can’t be both,” Hermione responded before taking it back. “We should…”

“Er… right,” Charlie grumbled, settling on the bed next to her. “I er… I didn’t mean that. If you need to take some… I won’t be offended.”

“Really?” Hermione asked doubtfully even as he took her hand again. That was fine, that was safe. It was almost comforting.

“Alright, my pride might take a hit but it’s good to be knocked down a peg every now and again. Keeps me humble.”

“If you get any more humble you’ll be a monk,” Hermione laughed.

“I just referred to my cock as a dragon.” His eyes softened when she paled. “Er, sorry. Shite, I’m saying that a lot aren’t I? The trainers on the reserves all have quite a mouth and-” 

“It’s… it’s not you Charlie,” Hermione sighed, setting the vial on the nightstand but still within easy reach. “It’s just… I haven’t really done this much before.”

“This isn’t your first is it?” His voice was even but she could almost feel the anxiety rolling off it. She wanted to lie to him... it’s not like he would know and it would make it easier.

“No.”

She flinched when he glared at her.

“You can’t lie about this Hermione,” Charlie said, running his spare hand up her spine. It set her heart racing in a mix of anxiety and desire. “If you are I need to know or I will hurt you.”

Hermione bit her lip, stalling for time.

“I was… I was raised to wait until marriage.” And wasn’t that unfortunate. 

Charlie blinked at her slowly before exhaling loudly and closing his eyes. She could see the muscles in his jaw clench. 

“I’m...sorry,” She coughed out trying to stifle her flush. “My mother was… very religious and raised me to be as well.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Charlie responded softly. “I’m not mad… just.. Kind of surprised.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, immediately offended.

“Not like that Hermione!” Charlie laughed. “Your reputation is sterling. It’s just-”

Charlie cut himself off, dropping his eyes to her chest and sliding them down her body until his cheeks colored. It gave Hermione a rush of pride, even under the circumstances. She raised her eyebrow when he realized he was staring.

“You’re just… very beautiful… and uh… Aw fuck it. You’re fit as hell Hermione. I’m not sure how the boys of Hogwarts kept their hands off you.”

Hermione laughed and he just colored more. It helped her relax, seeing him just as off kilter as she was.

“Well I had my fair share of snogging sessions. But whenever they expanded into anything more they were just kind of...meh, you know. I just don’t get what the big deal is and- Don’t laugh at me!” she shouted, pulling away from him to fall back onto the bed in exasperation. “It wasn’t my fault.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t,” Charlie responded, falling next to her still trying desperately to cover his laughter with a cough. “Boys that age spend more time thinking of how to get a bird than they spend in the act. It gets better as you go.”

“Are you speaking from experience?” she teased, sticking her tongue out. 

“Yes,” Charlie responded with a smile. “Takes awhile to stop being a selfish little twit but I learned eventually. I promise, this is going to be much better than any of that.”

The statement hung awkwardly in the air.

“How much longer?” Hermione asked after silence had fallen for a bit. Charlie sighed and cast a quick tempus charm.

“A few hours.”

“Bugger,” she grumbled. Charlie's eyes blew wide and he threw his head back and laughed.

“What?” Hermione scowled. “Never heard a woman curse before?”

“No! That’s- not-” When he finally thumped his chest clear he was still chuckling. “It’s just… Good Godric you are entitled to be swearing up a storm and you go with ‘bugger’.”

“Oh I can swear,” Hermione corrected. “I just don’t really consider it appropriate for the current mood.”

“Right…” Charlie responded sobering immediately. “We should…”

Still they just stared at each other as the minutes wore by, neither really wanting to break the silence. So when Hermione's hand rose to rest on his bare chest they didn’t speak. She felt the muscles of his pecs relax as her fingers explored the crevices and hard edges that moved his body. Her nail nicked at his collar bone and he shuttered, waking the dragon on his shoulder who hissed and disappeared down his back.

“I don’t really know what I am supposed to be doing,” she murmured, her eyes following his arm as he shifted it to rest on her hip. She tensed, freezing her movements. 

“Don’t worry about it. This is far from the regular flow of things,” Charlie hummed, the warm baritone trying to soothe her body. By the time he was shifting her closer she was all but vibrating. “You’ve got to relax Hermione.”

“I-I’m trying,” she breathed.

“I know you don’t want to do this but-”

“It’s not that I don’t  _ want  _ to Charlie-”

“You don’t need to lie to me, Sweet. I heard your other options and I am only marginally better.”

“Stop making yourself sound like a bargain bin bottle of wine Charlie,” Hermione huffed. “You’re painfully handsome and incredibly kind to boot. If this were any other situation I would have probably pinned you to the bed by now.”

“Pinned you say?” Charlie smiled wickedly and that sent a curl of pleasure licking down her body. “Hm, maybe later.”

“Charlie,” she whined. She instantly regretted it. It made her sound young and foolish.

“Come here, we can start simple.” Charlie pulled her to his chest letting her adjust to the feeling of his skin before tilting her head up. “Just a kiss yeah?”

“Sure,” Hermione whispered letting the warm glow of blue and green of his eyes meld into nothingness as hers fluttered shut. 

Just like their first kiss there was a rush of heat and excitement. Her magic seemed to spiral in her chest, thrilled to be paired with its match. When his lips pressed against hers hesitantly she wanted to sigh in happiness and just lay there for hours, getting to know every single way she could kiss him. But they didn’t have hours and just as contentment and calm flowed through her there was an undercurrent of heat pulling her forward. 

She leaned into it, let her hand snake up the hard planes of his body and tangle in his hair. Hermione pulled him tighter to her, forcing more delicious pressure between them. Charlie's chest rumbled against her possessively, his hand curling around her lower back.

He deepened the kiss, nipping at her lip and slipping his tongue in her mouth when she gasped. A small mewling sound escaped her throat when he pulled back.

“Sorry was that too much?” he asked, his eyes dark. “Shite. I should have asked-”

“Charlie,” she managed, cutting off his rant. “Shut up.” 

She pulled him back to her, taking his mouth this time. He tasted like coffee and heat, the tingling taste of firewhiskey still lingering on his tongue. They fit together easily, the control of their kisses switching from one to the other in a constant battle where no one lost and everyone won. It was all going so well until she boldly rolled on top of him.

When she felt the length of him digging into her stomach she froze. Her brain conjured all sorts of images of how badly she could embarrass herself and ruin this thing that was still so new yet felt so important. He was trapped with her for the rest of his life. If she bollocks this up now it may take years to fix. And she only had six months, unless she was lucky enough to get pregnant this first time.

“Hermione? Sweet… look at me.” Hermione shifted her head up slightly. “Now open your eyes.”

She blinked slowly, not realizing they had still been shut while her brain plied her with the worst case scenarios. Charlie was looking at her in concern, his chest vibrating for some- Oh, no that was her. She was shaking.

“What’s the matter?”

“I.. I can’t… I’m going to mess this up.”

“No you’re not Sweet,” Charlie crooned softly as he ran his hand down her neck. “You’re doing so well. ” He kissed her softly, slowly walking her down from the edge. “You taste delicious, like chocolate and fire.”

She preened under the words, letting his voice roll over her soothingly. But when his fingers reached the tie holding up her dress she shot across the bed in a fit of panic. Her eyes were blown wide at the image of him lying there, his towel having come undone and only laying haphazardly over his-

“What is bloody wrong with me?” Hermione groaned, shoving her face into her hands.

“I’d say you’re doing quite well all things considered.”

“I just...I’m so sorry Charlie. I need to take the potion.” Hermione said, refusing to look at him. “It’s not you. I just can’t shut off my brain.”

“If you don’t want to do this… I’ll… I’ll find another way.”

“Like what?” she dragged her hands into her lap and stared at them, trying to will herself out of existence. She couldn’t just suck it up for him? God this was humiliating and hurtful. She was already mucking things up and being an awful partner.

“I can… Well… maybe…”

“There is no other way that wouldn’t be even worse. You _ are  _ a catch Charlie, and I want to… I mean, God have you looked in a mirror?” She almost smiled when he chuckled. 

“But it still wasn't what you expected for your first ime,,” he finished for her when it was clear she wasn’t going to do it herself.

“Yeah.”

There was a shifting of fabric before his hand appeared in front of her, a small pink vial held in his open palm.

“I know I wasn't your choice but I am still honored nonetheless. Take the potion Hermione. I don’t mind.”

“Do… do you know what it’ll do?” she asked.

“Knowing mum’s hand in love potions, it will be a slow and subtle thing. It should only heighten what you already feel. She’d never go for the volatile over the top emotions. You’ll be aware and able to stop me if you want. You seem so upset about this all it may not even work.”

“I’m sorry,” Hermione tried again. “I wish I could just… you’re so attractive and I can’t even just lay back and think of England.”

“I would like to think you’ll get a bit more enjoyment out of me than that.” Charlie laughed, before that serious look overtook his face again. “Go on Sweet. Take it, it’s alright.”

Her hands were shaking so he uncorked the vial himself, tilting it up to her lips. When she raised her head to drink her eyes met his with a wince. He looked disappointed, and a bit upset but was hiding it well. It was completely her fault and yet he was still smiling so softly. It was unfairly heartbreaking to see him so resigned to his fate. She pulled away, a drop or two of the lemon scented liquid clinging to her lips.

“I can’t do this to you,” she sighed.

“Hermione really. It’s fine if you just-”

“Stop,” she said, forcing herself to meet his eyes. It was just as she saw the flash of relief in his that cemented her decision. She bit her lip nervously, watching his eyes follow the action as she recapped the potion and set it on the bedside table. 

“Don’t do this on my account,” Charlie said. “If you need to-”

“You’ll take care of me right?” she mumbled twisting her hands in the sheets. 

“Of course I will,” Charlie soothed, gathering her hand in his. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

He laid them down on the bed, still a respectable distance away. Her eyes drifted to the towel, barely draped over himself before shooting back up to his face. Hermione shifted awkwardly, her skin flushing hot. Charlie relaxed a bit, a lazy smile pulling onto his face. 

“Go on, look. Touch. Whatever. Take your time.”

Hermione instantly focused on his body, like flecks of iron congealing on a magnet. She drank him in, as he laid there, so perfect in his strength and sure under her gaze. His skin was more scarred than not, but it compelled her more than anything. She shifted a tiny bit closer running her finger nails along the claw slashes on his hip.

“What happened?” she managed, her voice shakey and unfamiliar. 

“Pulled a hatchling out of a poacher’s camp. Damn bastards were going to take it to the beast fights in Greece. The little bugger clawed me in its haste to get away as soon as it saw the sky.”

“A-and here?” she questioned looking at a small jagged slash over his right collar bone. 

“Fell off a broom fifty feet up. Landed in a tree that broke my fall but also the bone. Was poking out of the skin and everyth-”

Hermione revelled in the strangled sound he made when she flicked her tongue over the mark. It made her feel powerful. She took a deep breath and chanced another lick.

“Easy there Granger.” Charlie's voice sounded strained and low. His hand had curled back around her back. “Don’t push anything before you’re ready.”

“Why are you so bloody understanding?” she sighed nuzzling her face into his neck and breathing him in. His hand trailed over her ribs and hips sending little shocks of pleasure through her body.

“Ron’s the shouty one. As the older brother I had to learn patience,” Charlie chuckled and his hand trailed up her spine to dance across the skin of her upper back. It was cool against her too hot body and felt like bliss. 

He was so careful about it, like he was afraid to scare her away. He was giving her time to take control and get used to him, not willing to take more than she had to give. Even with his own arousal pressing against her stomach he was still so touchingly gentle. It was almost enough to make her fall in love with him right there. She could do this...would do this… for the both of them.

She shifted until her body was flush against his, her face still buried in his neck. She waited just until he thought she was settled to press her lips hesitantly against his skin. She felt his thighs stiffen and pull away slightly. The action wasn’t what she was going for so she tried again. Her tongue flicked out, running up the ridge of his ear and he shivered, his grip tightening around her. It still wasn’t enough, she wanted him to know that this was her choice… as much of one as she could make. 

She kissed the spot behind his ear sweetly, letting her lips trail down until they reached the spot just below his pulse point. She swirled her tongue softly over the skin until he was twitching… waiting… until finally-

“Hermi-” 

Her name was sliced through with a vicious-sounding, foriegn swear as she sealed her mouth over his neck and bit hard enough to bruise. His hips bucked up against her, dropping more of the towel away. Her heart hammered in her chest, bounding against the skin until she was sure she would burst.

She released the tight skin, and lapped at the already reddening mark forming. Perhaps it was a bit territorial of her, but he was technically her husband and he  _ had  _ seemed to like it. 

Hermione was vaguely aware of a small part of her insisting that she feel guilty. That he was only doing this out of obligation and that she shouldn’t take more than what was required. The much louder more convincing part of her screamed that he wanted her and she was going to give him a damn good reason to have married her.

Hermione kissed up his neck admiring the softness of his face. He must have shaved in the shower for her. Just as she was following the cut of his jaw with her tongue he rolled them onto his back. 

“If- You’re going to lick- every inch of me, might as well make it easier for you,” he panted.

“Well,” Hermione swiped her tongue across his lips, pausing when he surged forward to take her mouth with agaizing slowness. 

“Maybe not  _ every _ inch of you....” she teased.

Charlie groaned and pulled her against him, crashing their lips together. Desire surged in her mind, no longer hindered by foolish things like logic or circumstance. All she was aware of was that Charlie Weasley was criminally fit and, if that large thing digging into her stomach was to be trusted, painfully willing. 

He flipped her like she weighed nothing, looming over her as he snogged her until she was gasping for breath. She groaned when he pulled at her lip again, twisting her body under his. He kissed down her neck, offering teasing licks and nips that set her already burning skin to near molten levels.

“Charlie,” she whined. This time her pitch carried a dark note that had the hand on her waist tightening.

“What’s the matter, Sweet?” he hummed, the vibration traveling down her collar bone and skipping around her heart. “Want to tease but can’t take it back?”

“Please… I- We need-” 

She whimpered when he pulled away, swearing in that harsh language she couldn’t make out again. 

“Of course. Sorry, I had forgotten.” 

This time when he lips found her neck his teeth dragged across the skin with just the right amount of pressure to leave her aching. She mewled when he sucked the skin of her bare shoulder into his mouth leaving his own matching mark. 

“Hot!” she managed to pant out as he kissed his way up back up her neck to nibble at her ear.

“Hmm?” he purred.

“It’s too hot. My skin feels like it’s burning.”

“Ah...Do you want to take off your dress?” he questioned softly, his fingers drifting over the neck of the halter. She nodded, already reaching for the zipper at her back. He steadied her hands, pulling them back towards his chest.

“Roll over, I’ll do it.”

Hermione bit her lip but nodded, doing as instructed. The satin sheets were cool against her cheek and she sighed at the feeling of his palm laying flat between her shoulder blades. The knot came undone with a simple tug and he rubbed the spot where it had rested on her neck before dropping his other hand to unzip the back. Charlie slowly pushed the fabric to either side, running his calloused hands across the curves of her waist and the small of her back. Hermione felt the smallest bit of anxiety which was slowly being drowned out by the desire quaking just under her skin.

The dress vanished seconds later and she squeaked in surprise as his hands traced up the outside of her thighs.

“Holy hell, Hermione. You’re fucking stunning.” Hermione was deeply pleased by the strained tenor leaking through his voice. “Gods I could just touch you forever… A-are you alright?”

“Fine,” she breathed wishing he would just move. This was his part to do.

“Would you turn over, Sweet? Will you show me?” 

Hermione only needed a second to school herself before twisting her body. She was sure her face was flushed, and she probably looked half-mad. It was not really the way she first wanted him to see her but...

Charlie groaned above her as his eyes roved over her. The darkening bruise on his neck stood out against the heavily freckled skin of his shoulders. Her eyes dipped lower cataloging every bit of him in return until-

She whimpered when her eyes landed on his cock, straining against his stomach. Most of the talk she had heard through the girls dorm about men had been related to skill more than size but still Hermione knew that Charlie was excessive. He was large, and so thick she couldn’t imagine him fitting comfortably in her but dear god was she tempted to try. Hermione shifted her thighs, fully aware of the soaked state of her knickers as she took him in.

Her magic hummed at the appearance of a familiar wand as it breached her vision, floating over her stomach. She looked up curiously.

“What are you doing?” she asked even as he began to cast. Charlie’s spell faltered, glowing bright pink before sputtering out. The tell tale sign of a failed contraception charm.

“Shite. That’s right. We can’t… oh Good Godric.” Charlie fell back on his knees, a haunted look decorating his face. “I’m going to be a father.”

Hermione blinked, pulling herself easily from the haze of desire as Charlie ran his hand through hair. She had forgotten that as scary as this all was for her, he was in it just as deep. Hermione sat up, wanting to be closer to him. 

“Did you _ not _ want children?” she asked.

“No… yes- I… I haven’t had a chance to think about it and now-” Hermione silenced him with a kiss calling her own wand to her side with a silent  _ accio _ . She pointed it at her stomach and whispered the spell until it glowed a bright bubblegum pink before seeping into her skin.

“There,” Hermione hummed pulling Charlie back down to the bed. “All better.”

“But you need to get pregnant or-”

“There will be time for that,” Hermione said. Oh god she hoped there would be  _ so _ much time for that. “After we have talked about it. Tonight it can be just us.”

“Technically it’s morning,” Charlie corrected and Hermione frowned in response. “Shite what am I doing? Freaking out about pregnacy and terminology with a fucking beautiful woman under me? Come here.”

Hermione sighed as he wrapped back around her, kissing her until she was forced to tear away for a breath. His hands slid to her breast, palming them easily. She moaned lightly as he trailed his mouth down using his tongue to circle her nipple.

She reached awkward for his length, before he pushed her hand away.

“Not right now, Sweet,” he hummed against her skin, sending a blazing heat to her core. He rolled the pert nubs in his fingers and lips working her into a frenzy.

“Charlie please hurry,” she moaned softly. She was mildly embarrassed by the neediness to her tone. Desire pooled in her stomach in a way she hadn’t felt quite this desperately before. It wash quickly building to an almost painful ache. He promised he would take care of her thought and he would… right? 

Charlie glanced up at her and frowned but nodded anyway, a slightly disappointed look on his face. His fingers pulled at the band of her knickers, gently tugging them down and off her. He was swearing again when he looked at her core, this time almost like a prayer.

She threw her head back and groaned when he ran one thick finger down her slit. He slowly circled her clit, watching the way she twitched when he repeated certain movements.

“God’s you’re soaked. Can I...” Charlie asked, prodding against her entrance.

“Yes!” Hermione gasped, bucking her hips as he slid inside. She moaned deeply, as he pumped his hand, providing friction but not nearly enough of it. He was  _ so _ careful, but she didn’t want to be careful right now. “More Charlie. More. Please.”

“So eager aren’t you?” he asked even as he obliged, inserting a second finger, hissing as her muscles clamped down. “You’re so tight, Sweet. I don’t think you can take me.”

“I can! I can!” Hermione moaned, riding his fingers where he had stopped. He watched her through half-lidded eyes. She was sure she was making quite a scene but didn’t particularly care. “Please, they aren’t enough. Please.”

“You’re sure Hermione?” Charlie asked as he withdrew her fingers. “If you need more time-”

Hermione surged up pressing her bare chest against his and knocking him off balance with a frenzied kiss. God he tasted delicious. 

They tumbled to the bed until Hermione found herself on top, sitting up in victory. But when she looked down his hands were running over her body and she was confident he was still a happy loser.

Carefully she shifted herself up, sliding the tip of him across her sex. She groaned at the stimulation and he was in no better shape.

“You should let me get you off, Sweet. At least once. Please. Let me make it good for- '' 

Hermione didn’t bother listening to the rest and she sank down on him slowly. Her back arched and she forced herself to relax against the stretching that felt like it was splitting her open in a heady mix of pain and pleasure.

“Go slowly. Take your time,” Charlie growled through a clenched jaw even as she felt him twitch inside her. His eyes were screwed shut and his breathing was coming in rapid pants. His hands were lightly pulling her hips upwards before letting her sink back down at her own leisure. By the time she had taken all of him she was shaking and swore she was so full that she was just a second away from bursting. There was no way she could handle so much right now, not when she was so new to all of this. Anxiety licked at her consciousness and her hands began to tremble against his chest.

“I- I can’t-” she whined and wiggled her hips, willing for him to understand. Apparently following along, he pulled her back under him, settled between her legs and still sheathed inside of her.

“It was a bit ambitious of you,” Charlie said, catching her nipple in his mouth. He pulled back out and sunk into her slowly, giving her body time to adjust to his size. “But I expect nothing else of Hermione Granger.”

“Weasley-” She panted as he sunk back into her with considerably more ease, pleasure slowly beating out the pain.

“Hm?” he hummed, biting at his own lip as he tried to control himself. 

“Hermione Wealsey,” she said, staring at his eyes. For a moment there was just a tinge of sadness before a searing heat overtook them. He dropped his mouth to hers and snapped his hips forward with a bit too much force. The action shook something deep within her that made white stars dance across her vision and her back arch against him. 

“Fucking hell,” Charlie cursed before repeating the action, his groan joining hers as thrust into her.

“I’m trying to be gentle and you are ruining it,” he panted, licking up her jugular.

“Don’t want- gentle. Want- this.” 

Hermione sighed, twisting her hips up to meet his as he picked up the pace. His skin on hers was constantly shifting between ice and fire and the pleasure shooting through her body made her head spin. She dragged a hand through his hair tugging tightly at the strands when he angled his hips to just roll against that spot. God she had never felt so filled and completed before.

“Almost time, Sweet,” Charlie groaned dropping to his elbows caging her in. “Can you come with me?”

“I-” She arched again when he hit that spot. “I don’t know. I-” 

A raw scream pulled from her throat as his thumb found her clit pushing in time with his hips. Just as his thrust began driving deeper she felt all the muscles in her body tensing and little shocks shooting up her spine.

“Come on, Love. Fall apart for me.” 

Hermione screamed again as she did just that. Charlie ripped his hand away, supporting himself on the bed while he swore, his own release seeming dragged from him by hers. By the time she could force her fingers to release his hair he was shaking above her. She helped guide him to her side just as a yellow ball of light appeared above them for a split second before bursting apart and dissolving.

“The union of Hermione Granger and Charlie Weasley is recognized by the Ministry of Magic as of this day, June 22nd at 7:32 am.” 

Hermione blinked slowly at the parchment drifting down over the bed. She caught it from the air, recognizing the familiar scroll of a marriage certificate, signed and dated for the exact time.

“Please tell me that the Ministry doesn’t have the exact time and date of when we consummate our marriage,” Charlie groaned.

“Afraid so,” Hermione mumbled, setting the paper to the side.

“We don’t even have rings. What a git am I.”Charlie covered his eyes with his arm still panting. Hermione smiled softly, grabbing her bag. She winced at the soreness between her legs but hid it, not wanting him to feel guilty. Her magic hummed eagerly around them and she was easily able to cast a wandless summoning charm, retrieving a small box from her bag.

“Erm, if you don’t mind-”

“What do you need?” Charlie asked sitting up so quickly that she almost laughed. 

“Nothing. Nothing. I just… you said we needed rings and I have these.” Hermione opened the white case, revealing simple silver bands. Charlie pulled out the larger ring, examining it in the light. “They aren’t valuable or anything. They’re just silver. My parents used them until they graduated dental school but I always loved them. Plus since it’s not gold the dragons shouldn’t want it.”

She took the ring from him and grabbed her discarded wand. A quick spell later and it was resized to fit him perfectly. Before handing it to him she applied one last charm, inlaying an engraving into the inner rim. Charlie held up the ring, reading the delicate cursive.

“By the ever-rising sun.” His voice hummed in pleasure and affection. 

Charlie graced her with a smile so brilliant that it made her heart hurt. Without any more pomp he grabbed hers from the box and resized it as well, the careful writing taking longer than it should for his vow.

He slid it onto her finger and Hermione felt their magic crackle hummed in pleasure as the last bits of their bond sealed something within her heart. She blinked at him, the heavy events of the past twenty-four hours settling on her like a fog.

“Sleep then?” she asked, already laying back into the pillows. Charlie laughed and nodded, levitating the sheets from under them and tucking them back around her. 

“Sleep Sweet, I’ve got you.” 

He gave her room if she needed it but Hermione shifted over to him as soon as he had settled, curling around his arm. He kissed her softly on the head, just as sleep began to take her.

Before she could slip away, she removed the band, squinting at the carefully scratched engraving of his handwriting inside. It was messy and slightly roughed, just by h

_ By the moon, that chases the sun across the sky. _

She smiled, sliding her wedding band back on and nudging her way under his arm. He was already asleep, but still pulled her closer to him, his hand curling around her waist. 

  
_ Yes,  _ she thought,  _ there were much worse options than Charlie Weasley. _


End file.
